Heartbeat
by InkyKate
Summary: Moments in the life of Harry Potter, as seen by the people who shared them. Rated, as always, to be safe.
1. In a Heartbeat

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Harry Potter, his world, or anyone or anything therein. All are property of the wonderful JK Rowling, and company. And I am merely borrowing them, for no profit of my own.

* * *

I am about to die.

And I am not afraid.

I am not afraid of you. I am not afraid of death. I am not afraid.

This is the moment my whole life has been moving me towards. This hollow in the woods, you with yours and mine gone before me, going after me.

You and me, and life and death.

Nothing else matters now.

Neither shall live while the other survives.

And my heart won't beat for you.

* * *

**_To be continued..._**

**Author's Note: **I am not entirely satisfied with this beginning, but I can't think of a way to improve it - and it gets the job done. I hope you enjoy this little story of mine (or, rather, this huge idea I had, and am now obsessed with), and please review!


	2. Lily

**Disclaimer: **I am not JK Rowling, and so I do not own Harry Potter, etc. Hence, this is _fan fiction._

**Author's Note: **I rather like this chapter, although I probably should go back and edit it better than I have. I think it kind of falls apart from the middle on down. And so that's something for me to work on. Any suggestions would be most welcome.

* * *

Lily Evans Potter frowned down at the paperwork on the clip board, wondering if she could manage the proper charm for confounding the nurse into thinking that she had proper insurance, or at least a proper bank account.

The waiting room was chilled from the comings and goings of patients, and her fingers felt strangely numb as she fingered the length of her willow wand and the stack of pounds in her coat pocket. She hoped she had enough. She knew that doctor's appointments could be very expensive. She also knew that they were a bit particular about things – paperwork and records – that couldn't be explained because all of her medical history had a decidedly magical twist.

And Saint Thomas' Hospital was rather decidedly Muggle.

She knew that she should just go to Saint Mungo's, where her Gringotts vault number would suffice and abnormalities from hallway hexes would be the universal standard. It certainly was the more practical and logical solution.

Yet, Lily couldn't even bring herself to walk through the door.

She had tried to, repeatedly, every few hours over the past few days – slipping away on breaks from Order work to do nothing more than marvel at the rather unimpressive architecture that was the main wizarding hospital for all of magical Britain.

Surreptitiously, trying to make it look like she had just fumbled the pen, she tapped her wand to the parchment, and then shuffled her way over to submit it.

The nurse, a formidable looking woman with tightly permed hair, skimmed it with the quick efficiency of someone used to tedious paperwork, eyes glazing just a bit over the personal history and insurance portions. Lily noticed, absently, as she tried not to look guilty and abnormal, that the nurse's name was Millicent, which was the kind of name she felt should come with a cheering charm.

Millicent nodded curtly, briskly, already moving onto the next stack of papers and not particularly interested in the fact that the young woman before her was a witch and sometimes traveled by broomstick. "Everything seems to be in order. Sit back down, and I'll call your name when the doctor is ready to see you."

Lily hadn't been to a doctor since she was ten, but she had a general memory of a lot of waiting and so she shuffled quickly back to the seats, taking care to choose one further away from the highly trafficked doorway.

Having settled herself onto the rather uncomfortable on a plastic chair, Lily fidgeted with her hands, feeling as though there was something that she ought to do.

Her mother would have read a magazine, calmly turned pages and finding interesting articles. Petunia would have surveyed the room, in a haughty and gossipy way, comparing clothes and manner with her own skewed standards. Lily couldn't quite bring herself to do either, although after several more minutes of fruitless fidgeting, she did grab the nearest magazine, careful to keep her eyes askance.

The chubby cheeked smile of a baby was frozen on the page, slightly disconcerting now that she was used to the vivid animation of wizarding photos.

Lily was almost positive she was pregnant.

That was why she was here, to make absolutely sure before she told anyone.

In the beginning, it had been almost overwhelmingly easy to write off the morning sickness to nerves and stress, the subtle mood swings to the heightened state of the war, and the subtle changes in her body to her age, or her diet, or to the sex itself.

All reasonable things, with the exception of her missed period, which wasn't even that unusual since she hadn't been perfectly regular before.

And then Alice Longbottom had cautiously announced at the last meeting, and Lily had known. Known without a doubt, and she had looked up the charm in one of the medical texts James' had inherited, and, of course, it had shown positive.

The warm glow had changed to panic almost immediately. She was actively involved in fighting a war. James was actively involved. All of their friends were fighting on the frontlines, and the war was bloody and brutal and oh-so-deadly. And a baby in the middle of all that seemed impossible, and terrifying.

And what did she know about babies anyway? She had just turned 20. James was still 19.

And what if she were wrong?

And what if James didn't want the baby?

The fears had blended together, and she had waited, weeks longer than she should have, before finally giving in and going to the hospital. She knew, without a doubt, that this should be a happy thing, that there should be talk of names, and nursery decorations, family and friends coming together.

She needed her mother in a desperate way, needed Petunia even. But mother and father had died in a car crash several months ago, and were now beyond anything of either scientific or magical means. And Petunia had written to tell Lily, in a matter-of-fact way, that she was due in June and had offered that only as a basic preliminary, as you would a stranger on the bus.

And perhaps it was for her lost family that she was sitting alone in this Muggle hospital, confounding the admittance papers. Certainly clinging to the Muggle world seemed safer at the moment, and almost as though, at any moment, she would find herself back in her childhood home playing dolls and playing at being a mommy without realizing the very real dangers, and worries, and fears that would hover around it.

At least she could count on there not being any Death Eaters just around the corner, though she supposed that was likely a bit naïve.

James would be horrified at her being alone, and unprotected. And she knew that she ought to feel guilty for not bringing him along. If she was pregnant, then he certainly had the right to be here with her. She certainly wanted him here, could see him here – absorbing the sights of all the strange Muggle things, barely restraining himself from commenting, and wide eyed that he might soon be a father.

James, she was certain, would be far braver about this than she was being, would be more consumed with the joy and the possibilities than all the horrible fears.

She and James would have the Saint Mungo's visit.

This was just something she had to do on her own.

Lily was so absorbed by her thoughts that she didn't hear Millicent, the militant nurse, calling her name until the third go-round. To be fair, she was calling her Mrs. Potter, and she still wasn't quite used to it, as the only people who called her that were Sirius and James, with much fanfare and affection.

Millicent was rather impatient about it, and with no ceremony or fanfare at all, escorted Lily quickly down one hall and up another to a sterile little room, with its plastic and paper covered stirrup chair and utilitarian cabinetry.

She was handed a paper gown, and then told that a nurse would be in shortly to take her vitals. Then Millicent, the very efficient nurse, was gone.

And she was waiting again.

The room pressed in on her, slightly. This felt very real. She was having a baby. She could be having a baby.

She was trying very hard not to panic.

Then a new nurse was in, cheerful and chipper, and she quickly had her sitting down and talking, as she bubbled around the room taking her vitals. Nervous expectant mothers were nothing new to her, and her constant chatter was both relaxing and isolating.

Was she? Wasn't she? She couldn't get past it, this question was all-encompassing, and so it was a relief that she wasn't expected to contribute much to the conversation, or really much at all, beyond allowing her body to be rearranged and prodded for the basic examination.

And then she was waiting again.

This time she was waiting for the doctor, who would walk in wearing a sterile white coat, carrying a clipboard and a verdict.

This time her eyes were glued to the door, waiting for the slightest turning of the door handle, the faintest shadow to pass under the door.

She could be having a baby – a baby.

The doctor, when she walked in, a lifetime later, was neither sterile, nor cold – or even particularly efficient. She seemed warm, and compassionate, and perhaps altogether very prepared for dealing with a very nervous young woman with a looming baby question.

"Hello, Mrs.," And here she paused to gaze at the folder in her hands. "Potter. I'm Dr. Spencer. May I call you Lily?"

"Yes." Lily had never before questioned the sorting hat, but that thin voice didn't seem to belong to anyone particularly brave. And she could be having a baby.

"Well then Lily, some congratulations are in order." Dr. Spencer then smiled warmly, unaware or ignoring the palpable effect that these words had on Lily's complexion. "You're about three months along. And I'd say you're due about the end of July, maybe the beginning of August."

"Oh God." She was pregnant.

"This is your first child, isn't it?" Dr. Spencer said, addressing the obvious nerves and then continuing on. "It can all be very frightening, I know. And you seem very young – yes, only twenty. As your doctor, I can assure you that we will give the best care possible, and you seem very healthy. I don't foresee any problems or complications with your pregnancy or delivery, though it won't hurt to be cautious."

She was pregnant. She was having a baby.

"Lily," She said, this time more forceful, the voice of a doctor now and not that of a friend. "If you don't mind, I'd like to ask you some questions."

Lily nodded; the doctor's gaze had sharpened to something unexpectedly shrewd.

"This wasn't a planned pregnancy?"

"No." Dr. Spencer made a note in her folder.

"Do you know who the baby's father is?"

"Yes." Her mind was suddenly full of him. "My husband, James is." Obviously.

Another note went in the folder. "And do you plan to continue the pregnancy, or will we need to discuss other options?"

"Other options?" Not have the baby? And suddenly her mind was full of that as well – how could she not? It was her baby, her child – hers and James - an innocent little life that was a little of each of them. "No, I'm keeping my baby."

She was having a baby, and now there was a little thrill, a warm glow emanating from deep within. Her earlier misgivings, put aside for her present reality.

A baby – she was having a baby.

"Good," Dr. Spencer smiled. "Most young women need to hear it said out loud, need to be confronted with that choice."

And Dr. Spencer was off, talking about nutrition and appropriate activities, and then about how the baby was developing – how he or she looked at this very moment. And Lily listened with the rapt attention that had made her top of her class at Hogwarts, her hand resting on her stomach in a gentle caress.

She could have a son, or a daughter. She was going to be a mother.

"What if I'm a bad mother?" She had hardly had the thought before it was out there, looming more threatening than the thought of pregnancy and babies had been before.

The look in Dr. Spencer's eyes was not unkind. "Come with me."

They walked down a hall, to another small room, where Dr. Spencer fiddled with a machine and Lily's still flat stomach. And suddenly the room was filled with the sounds of a rapid, strong beat.

This was the sound of her baby's heart. And there was a magic to this heartbeat that Lily had never encountered before. A magic beyond anything else: this was life.

Her eyes welled, her heart clenched.

This heartbeat was much quicker than her own, but she could feel her own jump to it, a steady, sedate accompaniment.

And for a long time there was nothing but the sound of her baby's heart, quickly pumping away deep inside her.

At long last, Dr. Spencer broke the silence.

"Mrs. Potter, Lily, the most important thing about being a mother is love."

And listening to that heartbeat, Lily Potter felt a love stronger than any she had known before; whispered to her baby:

"I love you, baby mine."

* * *

**_To be continued..._**


End file.
